Phone Calls
by scoob2222
Summary: Follows Season 4 as Jack and Chloe slowly work through their feelings for each other through a series of phone calls.
1. Chapter 1

_**Phone Calls**_

_Part 1: Illogical Logic_

For Chloe O'Brien life was one big logic problem. In her own mind there was always a reasonable explanation for every move she made.

Siding with Jack against Erin Driscoll for one—a simple logic problem. Every time there was a problem Jack always had the answer--he always knew the right thing to do and yet the people in power always wanted to disagree with him. They'd arrest him and then later it would be, "Oh sorry about charging you with a crime and thanks a lot for saving the country again." Even though she lost her job it still added up to the right decision--at least in her mind.

And she had gone back to CTU when Michelle called for the same reason. If Jack got hurt then there would be no one around to save the world from destruction, so really she was only protecting her own best interest.

And when she helped cover up his "death" she knew instinctively that it was the best thing to do. There was no other way to protect him and he deserved to be safe after all he had gone through.

See--simple logic.

She had even stayed at CTU despite the fact that she told Michelle it was only for the day. With Michelle, Tony and Jack gone the place was in complete disorder. Edgar was pretty much useless on his own and she had no real reason to leave. Again a logical decision.

However, she was having some difficulty maintaining her logic centered brain in the wake of Jack's "death."

She found herself...missing him. She knew it wasn't grief, because she knew he was alive, but something was going on--something that vaguely felt like a kick to her stomach every time she'd go to tell him something only to realize that he wasn't there.

And then three months after Jack's fake death the phone calls began. Late-night phone calls--12 am, 1 am, sometimes later. Sometimes she was up, unable to sleep and pretending to watch television. Other times she'd be fast asleep, waking up grumpy and grunting into the phone.

After about two weeks of this she was fed up. At first she was afraid someone might be after her, but she realized that if someone was after her they probably wouldn't warn her.

She decided that it must be some idiot pranking her and she almost reported him, but something stopped her. She had no idea what that was until one night she picked up the phone at 3 am. She had been in a deep sleep and was extremely unhappy to be woken up and had practically screamed "What?" into the phone.

And then she had heard it...the caller chuckled. It was quiet and quick, but she heard it. It was Jack. All this time Jack had been calling her. She almost said his name; bit her lip to stop herself, knowing someone might be listening. Then there was only a dial tone.

She didn't know why it had taken her so long to see it. Late night calls only, the calls lasted less than a minute, no sound at all, not even someone breathing. Jack had called her. Why? He didn't need anything or he would have found a way to speak to her. He wasn't in trouble or he wouldn't have just laughed.

Could it be...that he called because he missed her. That maybe he was experiencing the same stomach dropping kick that she was.

No, of course not. It didn't add up. If Jack was going to call someone he would call his beautiful ex-girlfriend or his daughter, or even Tony, his best friend. But her, no way. It just wasn't logical.

But then missing Jack the way she had wasn't logical either. Or...maybe it was. Maybe it really was just a matter of math--two negatives canceling each other out. If she couldn't miss Jack and Jack couldn't miss her...then they really did miss each other.

And completely illogically she felt herself smile in glee.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Phone Calls**_

_Part 2: Afterlife_

Jack Bauer was a man of action. For the last decade or so of his life he had moved from one crisis to the next: betrayals by friends, the death of his wife, arrests, and on and on leaving little time for him to sit down and contemplate his feelings.

Until he had "died." Now he had all the time in the world to think about things and he found himself surprised at some of the places his thoughts took him.

For the first few weeks of his "afterlife" all he could think about was Audrey. He thought over everything that happened and realized that he couldn't have done anything different, or rather he wouldn't of. He did what he had to do and Audrey could not accept that and that was really what ended their relationship. Not that he was blaming her, he understood why she had ended it, but he wouldn't blame himself, not this time. The truth was that if she loved him she would have understood that what he had to do effected him deeply and stayed with him forever. He didn't enjoy hurting her; he didn't enjoy what his actions did to others, or to his own usually somewhat disturbed psyche.

Audrey would never understand that.

In fact the only person who seemed to even remotely understand him was Chloe. At the time he had been so shocked by her comment that she was willing to listen to him if he needed her. It wasn't that it was strange for Chloe to say, although really it was, what was strange was his realization that Chloe was usually the person who listened to him. In the dead of night as they waited for the next crisis she would listen intently as he vented. Then she would tell him that he had only done what he had to. That he shouldn't blame himself. That he did what everyone else was too afraid to do.

She had faith in him…faith she proved when she had put herself on the line and lost her job for him.

He found himself thinking of Chloe more and more everyday. She would creep into his mind when he least expected it. Sometimes he could even hear her sarcastic reply to his own thoughts—running like a constant commentary in his mind.

Unfortunately, as he said he had plenty of time on his hands. And with that time he began to think about the unique Ms. Chloe O'Brien and some of his thoughts went unexpected places. He couldn't seem to get over the unbelievable fear that he felt when she was under fire. The anger he felt because she had been sent out when she wasn't prepared, that the team with her hadn't protected her the way that they should have. He hated feeling helpless as he waited for hope to arrive, knowing he couldn't get to her in time.

But as usual Chloe surprised him—keeping calm in a situation beyond anything she had ever experienced and saving herself and their informant.

During one of his Chloe-centered moments he wished that he could call and check on her. Just hear her voice and make sure that she was okay. And then he realized that he could. Why not? It was 12 am LA time and he didn't need long—less than a minute to hear her say…

"Hello." The quietly groggy voice answered the phone.

"Hello." This time louder and more insistent.

"Hello." Her annoyance flowed through the phone lines, making him smile as she gave one last irritated sigh and a quick, "Whatever," as she hung up.

He promised he wouldn't call her again. Then he promised only to call once in a while, once every two weeks, not more than three times a week. Soon the only way he could stop himself from calling her every night was because he worried that she would call the cops on him. He wasn't really sure why she didn't. It was the intelligent thing to do and Chloe was, if nothing else, always doing the intelligent thing. Could it be that she knew it was him? That somehow she sensed him.

He told himself that was ridiculous and realized that the phone calls would have to stop. One last call and that was it.

As he picked up the phone he didn't even bother to check the time. Which was good because 3am was late even for a late-night phone call.

He heard the phone picky up and the unhappy recipient of the call practically spit, "What?" into the phone.

He couldn't stop himself—the chuckle seemed to erupt from his throat without his consent. The moment it did time seem to stop. He heard her quick gasp. The swallowed "Ja.." as she stopped herself from calling his name. Knowing he had to get off before she said too much he slammed the cell phone shut, breaking their phone connection.

As he sat in his crappy apartment and watched infomercials crawl across his screen he wondered why he couldn't leave it all behind him. He had left his life, his girlfriend, his daughter, his friends, his job, his life behind and here he sat finally alone, safe and completely miserable. He hadn't really died, but he wasn't really living either.

But he couldn't go back. This was the only way—this was his life now, as crappy an existence as it might have been. And he certainly could not keep calling Chloe. His connection with her had to die the same way he did.

He told himself again that there would be no more calls. No more dwelling on his old life of what he had lost. And he wondered why his new life suddenly seemed like no life at all.


	3. Chapter 3

Phone Calls

Part 3: Spring

Disclaimer: The poem, "now i lay me down to dream of Spring" is by ee cummings. I do not own it. Or 24, or any of the actors.

Chloe told herself that she was not going to stay up and listen for the phone...It was midnight and she was exhausted. After a computer crash at CTU she had spent hours fixing the problem. She had gotten home, taken a shower and poured herself into bed.

But sleep would not come. It was crazy. All she could do was stare at the phone on her bedside table. He wasn't going to call—it had been two weeks since his last call—the one where she figured out that he was one calling. So why hadn't he called back? Was she wrong? Had she imagined his laugh? Was she actually missing him so much that she was hallucinating?

And what if it was him. He was gone—"dead." There was no acceptable reason that sh should be obsessing over a 45-second phone call that was nothing but dead air over the line.

That's it. She was done. She'd just unplug the phone. There. Done! Now she was going to sleep.

2am—She plugged the phone back in.

3am—she unplugged it.

4am—plugged.

4:30am—unplugged.

4:45 plugged

6am—She was up, showered and on her way to work. Sleep, just was not going to happen.

By the time she arrived home that night she was beyond exhaustion. All she wanted to do was sleep. But as she got her mail she realized that she had received a package. It was a plain brown envelope with no return address. Quickly she clutched it to her chest and moved toward her apartment.

When she finally got in she flung the door closed and ripped the package open. Inside was small glass prism. Chloe held it up to the light that still shined into her kitchen window and watched it refract. Watched as the splintered light bounced around the walls.

When she could finally break her gaze away from the prism she noticed that there was a small piece of paper on the floor. In her haste it must have slipped and fallen.

There was a single typed line, "now i lay me down to dream of Spring"

What the hell did that mean? Was she supposed to know? And why was it written weird. The punctuation was all off. Suddenly she remembered the one literature class she had been forced to take in college. It was part of a poem—that guy who never capitalized anything—she had found it so annoying.

She ran to the commuter and typed it in. As the entire poem came up she smiled again. Chloe O'Brian had just received a love note.


	4. Chapter 4

Phone Calls

Chapter 4: Don't Drift Away

For one whole week Jack managed not to call Chloe. Unfortunately he had not done that through sheer will. He had almost been spotted and had had no choice but to take off. He had spent 7 days traveling around Mexico, often by foot and phones were not readily available. When he was finally far enough away that he felt safe he asked himself if it was a coincidence that he was almost spotted the day after his voice went over the phone lines or if the calls had been tracked.

That led to another three days of not calling. It was too much of a risk, not just for him, but for Chloe. If someone confirmed he was alive, if they traced the calls and realized he had been calling her for weeks she would certainly be a target. No, the phone calls, had to stop, they were too risky.

But he couldn't stand the thought of never contacting Chloe again. He knew her—knew how insecure she was. If he never called again she would assume he didn't care about her. Maybe that was the best—if she thought that than she could forget about him and move on with her life. But, as selfish as it may be, he couldn't let her think that, couldn't let her drift away like everything else had.

So he decided he would have to find a new way to contact her. And then luck, or fate, or hell pure chance stepped in, and he decided to take a stroll around the market in town. And there is sat on one of the booths. The sun's rays beat down, the light bending and blinding him.

He had no idea why he wanted to buy it for her. Maybe it was the light—the way it seemed to jump out and encircle him in warmth. Maybe it was the way it bent the light—changing it, it was no longer a perfect ray, but it was still shining, still good and real and pure.

He spent the night staring at a computer trying to write a message. Couldn't be too personal—in case it was intercepted by the wrong person, but it had to say something didn't it. Something important—something….poetic.

The poem seemed to jump in his head. He had read it in college—hadn't really gotten it—the whole death and darkness is the only guarantee we have, but he certainly got it now. The last few years had been almost nothing but death and darkness.

Except Chloe. She wasn't dark—she was innocent and young and pure and real. She was the spring. He could never keep her, but he could dream of her.


	5. Chapter 5

Phone Calls

Chapter 5: Meaning

Okay—so he sent her a prism. It was pretty and she spent hours holding it up to the light and watching it shine. But why had he sent her that? Why a prism? What did it mean? Did it mean anything?

And why a line from a poem? Why that poem? Why that line? "now i lay me down to dream of Spring" She'd spent hours reading over the poem. Searching the internet for some meaning. Did he mean she was Spring? It was the only word capitalized in the line. Did he dream of her? Or did she make him want to sleep.

Considering she spent her life solving problems and finding answers this mystery was driving her insane.

And mail seemed to come daily now. Lines of poems, songs, quotations that she would read, memorize and burn, wanting to leave nothing that could be traced to him. She even began carrying the prism in her purse in case anyone looked in her apartment. And, okay sometimes she snuck to a back room at work to watch it shine in the light. But only sometimes, rarely, not everyday.

As she collected lines of poetry in her mind, wound them together and replayed them like a daily reel she asked herself why she was doing this. Why she was sitting at home waiting for index cards full of writing from a not-so dead man who she'd probably never see again. She found it less puzzling to wonder what Jack's actions meant rather than her own. Why was she clutching to something that could never be? Especially when she didn't know what that something was. Why did it feel as though Jack were still beside her when really he was hundreds of miles away?

She thought of the lines of poetry he sent her. She had found most of the poems online at a "Love Poems" website. And that got her thinking about that word, "love." What was it exactly? How did you know love? How did you measure it?

Did she love Jack? Is that why she could not let him go? Is that why he risked exposing himself to send her letters? To let her know he cared, maybe even loved her? How did she know? Was it love when you'd risk your job, your livelihood for another person, when she still risked it by pretending he was dead? She would do anything to protect Jack. Even if it meant risking her life. And she would do anything to keep him with her, even if it was only a small part of him. Even if that meant risking her life.

That must be love, right?


	6. Chapter 6

Phone Calls

Chapter 6: Dreams

Jack Bauer is a man who never truly rest. He sleeps with one eye open. If he didn't he'd have been dead long ago. His first instinct upon waking is to reach for the gun on his bedside table. But he pauses waiting to see what the intruder will do, but keeping himself ready to move quickly.

He finds himself shocked into stillness as the intruder speaks, "You're not gonna like, shoot me are you?"

Jack sits up in bed and stares open mouth at the woman in front of him, "Chloe," he finally manages.

She gives him a look that says, 'Well, duh,' and then replies, "Yeah, last time I checked."

Jack shakes his head as if to clear it, but she's still there, "I must be hallucinating," he finally says, but as Chloe comes closer and sits down next to him he realizes she is very solid.

"I don't know why you're so surprised. I thought this was what you wanted. You have been sending me love letters for oh, two months now. Haven't you?"

"Well, yeah," Jack said, clearly still confused, "But Chloe I never told you where I was, or asked you to come, you need to leave; it's not safe to be here."

"Don't be stupid. I'm with you. I'm perfectly safe."

"Chloe, you're not safe, and you cannot stay with me."

Chloe's bright face darkened, "You don't want me here?"

"No, that's not it."

Chloe stood up and paced the small motel room, "Well that's typical, phone calls in the middle of the night, love letters, prisms and now nothing. I knew I was reading too much into them. They made no logical sense, but no I, for once, had to go and listen to my heart and come here and tell you…"

"Tell me what?" Jack said, not standing in front of her and halting her pacing.

Chloe looked up at him, her eyes watery, "Tell you that I think I might be in love with you. I'm not completely sure, I'm not good at this kind of thing, but I memorized all those letters you sent me and," she reached into her pocket and pulled the prism out," I carry this like everywhere, so I think I might be, in love with you."

Jack said nothing for a moment and simply stared at her.

"Jack," she said, "Now would be a really great time for a response."

But Jack could say nothing as month's worth of pent-up emotion burst out of him and he pulled her into his arms. He swallowed her "yip" of shock as he pressed his lips to hers; acting out every dream he'd ever had about her as he lifted her into his arms and carried her to the bed.

"Jack," she whimpered, causing him to pull back and look at her. She opened her mouth to say his name again but he couldn't hear her over the ringing. Ring! Ring!

Dammit! As Jack shot up in bed he could think of nothing but that word. Not another dream. He didn't know how much longer he could handle them.

His thoughts were cut off as his cell phone rang again.

Reaching over he grabbed it, assuming Tony was calling to check in as he did every week, "Yeah," he answered, long ago he had schooled himself not to answer his own name into the phone.

"Hello, Mr. Bauer," Jack went on immediate alert as he heard the strange voice on the phone, "Did we wake you? It is only, 6am in the part of Mexico you are staying in, correct."

"I'm sorry," Jack began, "You must have the wrong number. No Bauer here."

"Really? Well I am terribly sorry to bother you. Perhaps you could pass a message onto Mr. Bauer for me."

"What do you want?"

"Well I have a friend of Mr. Bauer's here and she wanted to say hello."

Jack heard rustling and then a voice he knew all too well said, "Jack."

No, no, God, no.

"Chloe," Jack said, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm okay. Considering I've been kidnapped by a gang of men with guns."

Jack heard rustling again, "Chloe? Chloe?"

"So, you know Ms. O'Brien as well. Well then you can tell Mr. Bauer that he had 24 hours to return to the United States."

"And then what?"

"And then he will get further instructions. Oh and I'm sure I do not need to remind you that if you call the authorities I will have no choice but to kill Ms. O'Brien, very slowly."

Jack heard nothing else as the man hung up. Immediately he dialed Tony, "Almedia" came the answer a few moments after, "Tony, it's Jack, we have a problem."


	7. Chapter 7

Phone Calls

Chapter 7: No Way

She told herself to be brave. That Jack was always brave and he'd faced much worse things then being locked in a cold cement room.

But it was hard to be brave when you were in fact locked in a cold cement room.

Being able to hear Jack's voice had been comforting and she had tried not to let her fear show through to him. He would only blame himself for this, just like he blamed himself for everything else.

Damn. Why had this happened now? She was sitting here and whoever was holding her would probably kill her and Jack as well. And now she would never know the truth. She would never know how Jack really felt about her. Or what that damn prism that was still in her pocket meant.

Hey, the prism was still in her pocket. She had been wearing her gray slacks, the ones with huge pockets and so she had put it in there instead of her purse, so she could have it with her all day.

As she took the prism out it felt cool and heavy in her hand. Heavy enough to stun someone. Sharp enough to take out an eye.

She stood waiting behind the door of the small room. She was sure she'd never been more scared, not even the night she was being shot at, but the fear was temporarily being drowned out by adrenaline and determination.

There was no way she was going to die without knowing if Jack loved her. No way.


	8. Chapter 8

Phone Calls

Chapter 8: Reunited

Tony had stopped using words about an hour ago and now was cursing at Jack in short outbursts every few minutes as his wife tried desperately to calm him down.

"Tony," she said again, "I know you're upset, but maybe you should save the yelling after we help Chloe. And maybe when we're not driving so we don't head into incoming traffic."

Tony turned towards her, continuing to yell, "Do you think this is funny? It is not funny. Jack has been sending Chloe love letters for over three months now, which is a pretty amazing feat considering the fact THAT HE'S DEAD!"

Michelle winced as Tony's voice increased in volume again, but Jack said nothing in the back seat of the car. He hadn't said much since they'd picked him up a few hours ago. It was 10 am and Jack had been back in the US for almost two hours with no word from the people who were holding Chloe.

As Tony continued to yell Jack's cell phone began to ring. Quickly the car shut up as he answered, "Yeah."

"Jack, it's me Chloe."

"Chloe, what's going on?"

"I got away, but I think I might have been followed. I need help."

"Okay, Chloe stay calm and tell me where you are."

"Outside L.A. somewhere, it looks like some sort of oil plant."

"Tony, do you know of an oil plant outside of L.A?"

"Yeah, I think I know where that is. Hold on." Tony made a quick change of lanes and started in the direction of the plant.

"Chloe, listen to me, I want you to wait for me there. Find somewhere to hide and I'll come and get you."

"Okay." For a moment the line was silent.

"Hang up and hide Chloe, I'll be there soon."

Jack heard the dial tone and closed his phone. Then he began going through his bag, pulling out a gun.

Within the hour they were there and Tony stopped the car down the road from the plant and began to get out with Jack.

"No," Jack said, "I'm going to go in alone."

"Jack, you have no idea what you are dealing with…"

"I know, and I might need a quick get away. Take the car around the back and we'll meet you there."

Tony drove off and Jack snuck into the fences in oil plant. He spent ten minutes searching the grounds with no luck. He didn't want to call her cell phone in case she had been followed. Suddenly he heard a loud noise and raised the gun until he recognized her running toward him.

"Chloe," he called out, his legs did not seem to be registering his brain's order to run toward her.

But it didn't matter since she was in front of him in moments, "Are you okay?" he heard himself ask before she launched herself into his arms.

"What's happening?"

He wrapped his arms around her slight form, she seemed even smaller than the last time he had seen her.

"I don't know. Tell me what happened."

"I'm not sure. All I remember is waking up in a room, they told me to talk to you on the phone and then they locked me in. I knocked the guy out and ran away. I hid, but I heard something and that's when I saw you and came running."

"You heard something, is there someone…" Jack didn't get the chance to finish his sentence as he heard movement and then a shot rang out.

"Move," he yelled as he shot and hit the man running after them. He took off with Chloe close to his side as they made their way to where Tony was waiting. Jack could hear several men behind them and pulled Chloe behind a wall as he watched the men pass. As he watched at least five of them ran past him and he realized that he was going to have to find a different way to get them out of there when he heard the roar of an engine as Michelle drove the truck straight at them hitting several men along the way. Tony fired at the other men and Jack did the same until it was safe enough for them to make get to the car. Several more men ran into the clearing, but Michelle already had the car moving in the opposite direction.

Jack moved to the back of the truck looking for any sign that they'd been followed. As they moved back to the main road it seemed that they were safe, for the moment. It was then that he looked over at Chloe, who was trembling slightly, but was doing a remarkable job of keeping herself calm.

"Are you okay?" he asked again,"Are you hurt anywhere?"

"I'm okay—I think—well except for the never being more afraid in my life, but other than that, I'm good."

Jack couldn't help but smile as he looked at her and he was relieved to see her smiling back.

"Sorry to interrupt back there," Tony said, "But what's our next move Jack?"

"We need to get somewhere safe. Somewhere we can figure out what is going on."

"Well, I'm sure our place is out, and obviously Chloe's is a no go. Got any other ideas?"

"Edgar. He'll be at work by now and he's got everything I've got at my place."

"Won't someone notice us breaking in?"

"We won't have to. I know where he hides the spare key and even if someone sees us, the neighbors all know me."

Jack felt himself tense at this new knowledge and realized for the first time that while he had been contacting Chloe there was no way for her to reciprocate. If she wanted to reciprocate. All this time he might have been making an idiot of himself sending her love letters and putting her life in danger while she was dating Edgar.

After Chloe had given Michelle Edgar's address she said to her, "Chloe, how did you manage to get away. Those guys back at the plant meant business."

"Well I guess they didn't expect much trouble from me. When I realized there was only one guy guarding me I hid behind the door and knocked him out. Then I rewired the code and locked him in the room. It must have taken a while for them to realize that he was in there and not me. By then I was long gone."

"How did you knock the guy out?"

"Well I didn't really knock him out. I stunned him and I think I may have taken his eye out, but it bought me some time."

"Took his eye out?"

"Yeah, with a…" Chloe paused and look sheepish as she turned towards Jack, "with a glass prism."

Jack felt himself smile, a real one this time and the smile that Chloe gave him back could have beat the sun in its radiance. He was quite certain that no matter how much worse the day got, and being who he was it was bound to get worse, her smile might make his resurrection worth every bit of it.


End file.
